Chapter 56 Ransome
RANSOME
“Well, look who’s awake!”
Amara smiles over at me, and I swear to God, I must be dead. Because this can’t be real. After everything that happened, seeing her sitting up on the bed, the color back in her cheeks and a smile on her beautiful face, I am thoroughly convinced she is an angel.
Either way, I’m not wrong. “I could say the same thing to you.”
I rush to her side. The tiny baby, wrapped in a blue blanket, is nursing from her. All of the ice in and around my heart melts at the sight of it.
“He’s so small,” I say. Because even without the tubes and everything else, he really does seem tiny.
“He is.” She smiles. “But he’s strong.”
“And hungry,” I note.
Amara laughs. “Yeah, he is that. With a little bit of luck, he’ll make up for lost time.”
I sit down in the chair next to the bed and lean in. They’re a sight to behold—Amara and our baby. So in sync, even after everything.
Amara’s skeptical gaze sweeps over me. “You look like hell.”
I laugh. Actually fucking laugh. “Yeah, well, it’s been a rough night.”
“Couple of nights,” she says. “Apparently, we both slept for over twelve hours.”
I swallow hard, but this time, I can’t keep the emotion back. “I didn’t know if you were going to wake up.”
“I didn’t either,” she admits with tears in her voice. Then she looks down at the baby. “But the whole time, I was dreaming about him. I was holding him and feeding him, bathing him and rocking him, and I just knew I had to be okay. Because he needs me.”
“I need you,” I admit.
She looks back up at me. Her eyes are shiny, red from exhaustion and crying. “And I need you.”
There’s a moment of silence. We let it pass, feeling each other’s warmth, basking in our son’s presence.
I clear my throat. “Is Electra okay?”
“Yeah.” Amara seems surprised by my question. “She went home last night. I texted her when I woke up. I didn’t want to leave her for another six months, you know?”
“Yeah.” I smile and reach out to rub the top of the baby’s head. “Mav and Baron have been blowing me up too. But seeing as how this little guy is going to be in NICU for a minute, we can’t have any more visitors for a while. Which is fine by me. I am really fucking sick of people.”
Amara smiles and then it fades. “What happened?” she asks.
“You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
I don’t need to say who. Amara’s eyes widen in realization. “You sure? He’s a sneaky bastard.”
“I shot him in the head.”
“Oh. Well, that would do it.”
I reach out and take her hand in mine. “I mean it, Amara. You don’t have to worry about anything anymore. Things are going to be different now.”
“No more Bratva?” she asks, and we both know it’s a joke.
“No more worrying. No more Chadovichs prowling around every corner. With Tristan gone, they have no pakhan. And if I had to guess, Yuri and Daniil are too terrified to step up. It’s going to be a lot quieter.”
“Quieter sounds nice,” she says.
“Except for when it comes to us,” I tell her. “No more hiding. No more pretending. You are mine and the world is going to know it. From now on, it’s you and me and my heir.”
“Well, that sounds amazing,” she says. “But our heir is going to need a name.”
“How about Lorenzo?” I ask, but she crinkles her nose.
“No. No Italian names. What about Aleksandr?” she asks, but this time I shake my head.
“No. No Russian names either. Tradition is good, but some things need to come to an end.”
Amara looks down at the baby, running her fingers softly through his light blonde hair. Then she smiles. “Nicholas,” she says.
“Nicholas,” I echo softly.
“We can call him Nicky for short,” she adds. “Unless you hate that.”
“No,” I say, and my throat is tighter than I thought. “I don’t hate it at all. In fact, I think it’s perfect.”
“Good.” She plants a kiss on top of his little head. “Because I love it.”
“And I love you.” I cup her face in my hand. “More than anything.”
“I love you too, Ransome.”
We both lean in carefully around Nicholas for a kiss. A kiss that finally feels like the world is right. I have my girl and I have my son, and everyone that was standing in our way is gone.
And for the first time, I also feel free of the pain from Nik’s death.
In the Bratva world, not a lot of things feel genuine or secure. But with all of it in my hands, I can make it into anything I want it to be.
My mom’s words stick in my head.
“Your heart is going to help you lead our family the way we should be led.”
I can lead them. I can lead all of us.
And there’s nothing that can stand in our way.